


Heat Lightning & Distortion

by euphorbic



Series: Angel of Cities [11]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Gratuitous Imagery, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 03:38:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphorbic/pseuds/euphorbic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Charming</i>, Emma says studying the sunlight, <i>but unnecessary. Let’s talk while you take a shower. I’ve had a rough time and I don’t want you to look at me when I’m like this.</i></p><p><i>You’ll forgive me if I do not sympathize with your hypocrisy.</i> Charles opens his physical eyes and sees the bedroom, smells sex and ozone. He’s not sure how Emma can be there uninvited within his mind and he doesn’t like it no matter how worried he’s been about her.</p><p> </p><p>[If you want to read the series in chronological order, go to the <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/36800">series notes</a>.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heat Lightning & Distortion

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place three days after [_Have You Any Wool?_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/747382)
> 
> I did some light editing and tweaking from the original.

 

             Charles is overwhelmed, panting, and gasping. Sweat stands out across his skin, gathers and runs in rivulets down his chest, over the channel of his ribs, and gathers where the declivity of his upper abdomen meets the trembling plane of his lower abdomen.

             One knee is hooked over Erik’s elbow, since his Power’s shoulders are too high to reach when his back is straight. And Erik’s back is nearly rigidly straight from the waist up: it is his thighs, hips, and the lower half of his spine that are in furious motion.

              Charles’ other leg is wrapped around Erik’s waist. His heel pressed against his Power’s ass, spurring him as he might a horse to the speed that delivers the most punishing pleasure as his need grows more frantic. He is far gone, but not so far that he can’t appreciate the flex of driving muscles under his heel or the concussion of Erik’s hips against him.

              Charles’ hands are braced against the bed’s headboard; his arms absorb the shock of each powerful snap of Erik’s hips that his ass does not. He has no doubt that if he did not do so, Erik would attempt to fuck him right up the wall. Were he capable of coherence, Charles would be thanking Bashan that Erik has the whole floor and thus no neighbors.

             Occasionally, a wave of force ripples across Erik and travels in brilliant blue arcs across Charles’ body from each point the two of them touch. It looks like miniature lightning, crackling up rivulets of sweat, jumping from bead to bead of perspiration.

             Erik’s eyes are squeezed shut, he is sweating from exertion. His jaw is open, jutting forward, and the lower line of his teeth is apparent and reflecting blue in the flickers of light running across him. Erik can release the energy he is building up at any point. He holds it, always holds it, waiting for Charles to trigger him.

              _Ung, steady, steady…_ Charles says as the pleasure from Erik’s every stroke against his prostate begins to crest. His thighs and loins are tingling, his skin is burning with a sex flush, and his testes have drawn up tight to his body. He trembles on the precipice of release, right where ecstasy and agony dance in tantalizing rounds.

              And then his body’s tension breaks after a final hard clench and release. Erik anticipates Charles’ signal before it is given and lets go. There’s a flash behind Charles’ eyes and across his skin as Erik’s ecstasy feeds into his. It is always more than Charles can comprehend; like being electrocuted with pleasure.

              As convulsions crash through Charles, a series of hard clenches and releases he has no control over, Erik gasps breathlessly. His hands dive beneath Charles’ hips, slide up his back and traverse his spine as he continues to drive forward, fucking every bit of pleasure out of Charles he can. He lifts Charles’ torso up, so in the last moments of mutual orgasm, Charles can wrap his arms around Erik’s neck and ride his powerful hips out.

              In the end, Erik collapses back, gasping, before Charles’ orgasm is done with him. Charles lets go of Erik to remain upright and grind down on his cock before it softens, eking out the last dregs of orgasm before he becomes oversensitive. He moans wantonly, feeling the warmth of Erik’s ejaculate slicking them far more than the lubrication they go through at a ridiculously frequent rate. His own come is running down his chest and belly and shifting back and forth along the defined muscles of Erik’s stomach as the Power sucks in air.

              Finally, muscles loose and mind pliable, Charles collapses on Erik’s warm chest. He smiles with exhaustion as he feels Erik’s formidable cock soften within him, but he takes care not to shift his hips to release it right away. He likes the intimacy of having Erik physically within him.

              Erik’s eyes are half-lidded and flickering with fading blue light. The light casts his skin blue and his lips are tinged purple until it fades away. He looks as close to human as he can with his animate hair and piercing eyes. His electromagnetic field rises to envelop Charles possessively.

              “I like attuning with you,” Erik sighs and closes one long-fingered hand across the back of Charles’ neck. He laces his fingers up, tangling them in the sweaty hair at Charles’ nape.

              “Mmm,” Charles murmurs sleepily, pressing the sound into Erik’s throat. “I like attuning with you more.”

              “I know,” Erik yawns. “I attune with you more than I attune with Bashan.”

              Charles scrunches his nose in momentary annoyance at Erik’s unexpected display of arrogance. He keeps the needling emotion from crossing their connection. He considers it silly to be jealous of a city, though, and lets that go. Bashan doesn’t have a manifestation and, as far as he knows, and Erik is only Bashan’s until he is no longer needed.

             The Alexandrian hinted that when Erik’s utility is exhausted he may dissipate for years, decades, perhaps even centuries before Manifesting in another city state. Charles doesn’t want to think about it. He wishes the word ‘temporal’ was not at all a part of who Erik is.

              All the same, such cheek cannot go unchecked; Erik has enough naïve arrogance to equip an entire school district-worth of children. Charles flicks his ear. “I like it when you’re less conceited.”

              Erik doesn’t even wince. He nods absently, drawing another breath in through his nose. “Yes, Charles, you’re always right...”

              Charles draws up from his lethargy to pinch him, but then chuckles as he sees why Erik is answering strangely. For the first time, Erik is more exhausted than he; he isn’t listening to Charles at all. He’s so exhausted that his next breath is taken in only to give voice to a quiet snore.

Charles attributes Erik’s slow refractory period to his lingering recovery from the altercation at Alexandria. The injuries Emma’s Power gave him are as slow to mend as information to surface concerning the three-day old debacle. The entire Library is still closed off; the citizenry fear Emma’s Power too much to defy him.

              _Charles, sexual healing is sweet, but since you’re thinking about it, we should probably talk about the Library._

              Shock is ugly in the grip of afterglow; Charles jerks upright and away from Erik. He looks around the room physically and then casts his awareness like a net across the loft. He draws it in and finds no other presence within Erik’s home. It is strange; the voice felt exactly like Emma’s crystal cool telepathy.

              _Because it is, Sugar._

              Charles gasps in surprise and overwhelming relief. _Emma! We’ve been so worried! Where are you?_

              _It should be obvious; I’m in your head._

              Charles’ brow furrows. Distantly he is aware of Erik’s warm semen leaking out of him and onto the sheets: he clenches his ass instinctually. _How can you be in my mind? I would never allow you this deep!_

              _Just feel for me instead of your body’s afterglow. Take a shower or something, Charles: you’re sticky and you smell._

              Confused by her nearness, Charles calmly travels his own mind, looking for Emma. He closes his eyes and looks away from Erik and the swarm, all of whom are suspended and floating lazily in Erik’s revolving iron ore landscape.

              He looks for traces of diamond, crystal, and cold within himself and finds a delicate butterfly made of ice. She flaps her wings enticingly and then unfolds from the tiny shape into a projection of Emma Frost. Oddly, there is no accompanying landscape to support her presence. Slowly, his own projection coalesces about them; a warm study filled with books, clutter, and beams of sunlight that are alive with swirling dust motes.

              _Charming_ , Emma says studying the sunlight, _but unnecessary. Let’s talk while you take a shower. I’ve had a rough time and I don’t want you to look at me when I’m like this._

 _You’ll forgive me if I do not sympathize with your hypocrisy._ Charles opens his physical eyes and sees the bedroom, smells sex and ozone. He’s not sure how Emma can be there uninvited within his mind and he doesn’t like it no matter how worried he’s been about her. _Don’t get up to anything._

 _I can’t_ , she snorts back. _You have me very tightly contained. I’ll explain, Charles, don’t worry about that. I don’t have much choice, since you’re the master of our little relationship._

              He wonders at that, but saves his questions. Charles gathers the soiled sheets and pulls them from the bed. He has to tug a little to free them from Erik’s comatose form, which makes him smile, but he soon has them. The process is a little tricky; he has to keep his ass clenched to prevent making a further mess. The sheets go into the laundry bin and Charles into the generous en suite bathroom. 

             Where most of the loft’s flooring is banded hardwood, the bathroom is mostly coarse-grained granite. Traction is good when the floor is wet, but never uncomfortable when dry unless utilized as a surface for trysting, then it feels like sandpaper. Erik’s back and the upper half of his ass had been rubbed raw the morning Charles had ambushed him in the bathroom before Erik’s rounds.

              He slides back the glass doors and turns on the water. For a while, he just allows hot water flow over and relax him. The water washes away the comingled sweat and come and pounds on his shoulders and neck soothingly. When he feels more centered, he reaches tentatively for Emma.

              _Are you really here?_

 _Unfortunately_ , she replies. _You can keep cleaning up; you don’t have anything I haven’t seen before._

 _How long have you been in here?_ Charles asks, irritated once again. _I’m glad you’re alive, but this is trespassing and I don’t care how almighty your Power is, I can nail you to a wall for this._

              _You’re just angry because I saw you riding your Temporal stallion. That’s cute. You know what is even cuter? How you think the only way to attune to with him is through sex. ------ and I never had sex._

 _What?_ Charles says helplessly, but concedes the obvious. When he’d imprinted with Erik that first day, it had been an attunement, he just hadn’t thought of it like that. Sex with Erik felt like a higher form of communication.

              _That’s because he does attune with you when you fuck, but he can attune with you without getting naked. It just adds to the sex._

              Though the information is valuable, Charles doesn’t want to discuss his sex life with Emma. Bad enough she can watch it.

_Look, I don’t want to be in here, but my body is dead back in the Library. Though, if Sebastian is still alive, he’s made ------ destroy it by now._

              Charles’ spine lines up as he throws his head back in shock. “ _What?_ ”

              He feels Emma sigh. _Sorry, Charles, but Sebastian wasn’t a good sport when I broke up with him._

 _Sebastian? Sebastian Shaw? I thought you two were affianced?_ Charles stares at the shower head before him in dismay. _Did you fall for your Power?_

              _Haven’t you?_

              Charles frowns. It is hard to admit to Emma, but true. He can examine that later; the more important issues are Alexandria and finding out how he can help Emma.

 _True_ , Emma replies. _So here’s the solution to my presence here: you clear me out once we’ve dealt with ------. I’m only surviving here because you’re fostering me. Now that you know you’re doing it, you can cut the cord at any time._

              Ducking his head back under the spray, Charles frowns again. There’s nothing wrong with Emma’s logic, but it presupposes a profound flaw; that he would not have noticed her enter his mind in the first place. He finds that idea absolutely untenable; his telepathy has always outstripped hers.

              _I’ll explain that later, but not now, Sugar. Why don’t we move on to talking about The Library?_

              _Let’s do,_ Charles agrees. He finds it odd that she’s referring to the Library without using the full nomenclature, but he sets that aside for later, too.

 


End file.
